


Decompression Sickness

by MaiOverwatch



Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-12-27 02:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18294665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiOverwatch/pseuds/MaiOverwatch
Summary: Agent 8 suffers from a bit of culture shock. Fortunately, she's got a pretty solid support system. Unfortunately, she's also way too good at making enemies.





	1. Dysbarism

**Author's Note:**

> Agent 8 meets her new co-workers.
> 
> ~~~ くコ:彡 ~~~
> 
> I'm basically forcing myself to write more of this fic by posting it, so, like... I guess don't expect very consistent updates?

_At last we meet, my so-called foe._

_But is our fate to spray this hate?_

_Perhaps we'll learn in depths below…_

_A02 – Far-Out Station_

 

Agent 4 sighed, double-checking the lock on the snow-globe that, once again, held the sullen DJ Octavio. “C’mon, Callie, how many times we been over this?” He decisively snapped the advanced tech in his hands in two, ignoring the cries of protest from both his Squid Sister co-worker and Octavio. “No more wearing the Hypno-Shades. I don’t care if they _DO_ look good on you, they’re finnin’ _Hypno-Shades_. The problem's kind of in the name. Just order a replica online or something.”

Callie’s incensed argument that she would never stoop to ordering bootleg shades off the internet was cut off by the sound of the front door of the New Squidbeak Splatoon hideout (actually an old, broken-down Turf War stage the Squid Sisters had pulled some strings to buy) unlocking. Agent 4 tensed up, but relaxed and holstered his Hero Shot upon the entry of Captain Cuttlefish and Agent 3. “Yo, Cap’n. What took ya so long?”

Cuttlefish chuckled. “We had an unexpected holdup, and I got separated from 3 for quite a bit. Fortunately, I wasn’t alone. Y’all know Off The Hook, right?”

Marie rolled her eyes. “Oh, Pearl and Marina, the fresh, exotic pop stars who took over Inkopolis Live and are a thousand times cooler than we ever were? Yeah, I’ve heard of them.” She hesitated. “Wait, are they here?”

Cuttlefish grinned, moving aside to let in the pop stars. The taller one – Agent 4 wasn’t sure whether she was Pearl or Marina, he didn’t really keep up with pop culture – immediately rushed over to shake the hands of the Squid Sisters. “Hey – you’re Callie and Marie! I’m a big fan, I named myself after you, Marie – the Calamari Inkantation is actually what made me-” she paused, breaking contact and shifting awkwardly- “get into music.” That would be Marina, then. She glanced around to take in the hideout’s busted mechanisms before noticing DJ Octavio, who had turned around when Cuttlefish entered the room, and nervously moving back over beside the other musician - Pearl.

The shorter Inkling, clad in a pink sweater and heavy-looking gold crown, sized the Squid Sisters up. “You two are seriously part of the New Squidbeak Splatoon?”

“Yep!” Marie bristled slightly, but ignored the ‘seriously’ and pulled her classic ‘stay fresh’ pose. “Agents 1 and 2. The Captain’s our gramps, so naturally we were his first picks.”

Beginning to space out, Agent 4 glanced over to the still-open door and was shocked to see the unmistakable pink-tentacled figure of an armed Octoling carefully stepping into the room. As he fluidly unholstered and cocked the Hero Shot, 4 tried to puzzle out how it got here – it must have tailed Cuttlefish and 3 from their mission – his breathing caught in his throat – if it reports the hideout’s location back to whoever’s in charge with Octavio captured the whole Octo Valley recovery could be for nothing –

But his train of thought was broken when, noticing his battle-ready position, the Captain, Agent 3, and both members of Off The Hook tried to jump in front of the Octoling at the same time.

Confused, 4 lowered his weapon. “Uh… Captain? Do you know this kid?”

Cuttlefish untangled himself from the other body-blockers. “Agents, meet Number 10,008, Agent 8 for short. Newest member of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.” He waved the Octoling forward, nodding as she seated herself on an upturned squid bumper. “No fan of the Inkantation is a foe of mine, and anyway, she just saved us all from total ex-ink-tion.”

“Sorry,” Agent 4 said with an upturned eyebrow, “care to explain what the carp you’re talking about?”

By way of answer, Cuttlefish dug a dusty remote from between the cushions of a couch that had been dragged in from 3’s old apartment and flicked on the TV on the opposite wall. As he turned to the screen, 4’s breath caught in his throat: the image shown was a massive stone statue covered in hot pink ink, with Off The Hook standing on a stage suspended from a helicopter on front of it – Marina furiously tapping away on a laptop, Pearl looking on terrified – and a tiny figure, who 4 recognized as the Octoling, inking the statue with vigor. The scene changed to a shot of a terrifying beam of weird-looking teal ink, facing off against what seemed to be a Killer Wail – 4 was pretty sure those had been outlawed – operated by none other than Pearl. The newscaster started yammering something about a new Off The Hook album before Cuttlefish turned the broadcast off and caught the Agents’ attention.

“That giant statue was NILS. Some robot creep wanted to use it to wipe out Inkopolis and create the ‘ultimate life form’, but thankfully, he kidnapped the wrong Octoling, huh?”

“Right,” said Agent 8. It was the first time 4 had heard her speak, and something seemed… wrong. Her voice felt like it lacked something, though 4 couldn’t quite put a tentacle on what. The few other Octolings he had spoken to on the surface gave him the same feeling, though to a much lesser degree. He filed it away for later, deciding to try and get to know the girl without his prejudice towards Octarians getting in the way.

It took the whole afternoon, but eventually, Cuttlefish, Pearl, and Marina had talked over each other enough that the Agents were more or less caught up to what had gone on in the Deepsea Metro, with Agent 8 pitching in occasionally to explain things the others hadn’t seen. Of course, with the Octoling’s memory loss, nobody was quite sure what she should do; she emphatically wanted to stay on the surface, what she called the “Promised Land”, so returning to Octo Valley or the Deepsea Metro was clearly out of the question.

Finally, Pearl spoke up. “Howsabout she stays with Marina and me for a couple days while we get an apartment set up for her? She needs someone to teach her about life here in Inkopolis, and we got some...” She glanced at Marina, who shook her head. “Well, let’s say I have experience.”

Marina, who seemed grateful for a reason to get out of the hideout, agreed. “The copters all went back before we got here – they’re rentals – so we’ll just walk back. It’s not too far from here.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Agent 3 scratched her head. “I mean, you two are going to be fine, but an armed Octoling walking around Inkopolis at dusk… most Inklings don’t even know what Octarians look like, but that still seems like a recipe for trouble.”

“Agent 3, you should walk with us,” the Octoling said abruptly. “Your skills are legendary, so I have no doubt you can protect us. And... I enjoy your company.”

Agent 4 noticed 3’s face flush for a second and filed that information away for later. “Right! I mean – right! I’d be happy to – I can guard you guys. I’ll just go back to the hideout afterwards.”

As the four of them set out towards the door and said their goodbyes to the Cap’n, the air was split by the sound of Calamari Inkantation. “TURN THAT OFF,” yelled the ensconced DJ, whipping around towards the source of the noise.

“Sorry – it’s my –“ mumbled Marina, fumbling through her pockets, “ringtone.” She avoided eye contact with Octavio, who eyed the group suspiciously before turning back. “Hello? Right. Right. No, it wasn’t- okay. Okay. Right.”

She hung up with a groan and turned to her bandmate. “That was our agent. Everyone seems to think all that was a promotional stunt for a new album we’re gonna drop, so...” She shrugged. “See if you can dig up some old demos we can revamp.”

As Marina turned to the door, she glanced at the DJ for a second and hurried out of the building, shivering. Agent 8 and Pearl, who shrugged at the rest of the Splatoon, rushed after her, tailed by Agent 3 with her cloak’s hood pulled up.

“What do you think-” wondered 4, but was cut off by DJ Octavio heavily slamming a tentacle against the glass.

“I know her,” he said, and left it at that.


	2. Immersion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 8 introduces herself.  
> Pearl and Marina worry.

_ The world I knew seems like a trap. _

_ I'm drawn now to the strange and new. _

_ Would my old friends think me a sap? _

_ B01/A03 Wassup 8-Ball Station _

 

The walk home was, honestly, uneventful. Agent 3 got more weird looks than the Octoling, with her cape and barely-concealed Hero Shot, and the only person aside from paparazzi who stopped the group did so to ask under his breath if they knew about the Inkling following them and peeking around corners at anyone who even glanced their way. When they got to Marina’s house, an average-sized building decorated mainly in subtle tones of the duo’s trademark pink and teal, Agent 3 wordlessly parted ways with the group.

Marina smiled, unlocking the door. “I wonder if she’s always like that? Seemed pretty no-nonsense in the Metro.” She turned towards Agent 8 and froze – the Octoling was leaning against the house with her hands pressed tightly to her temples, apparently in pain. She noticed Marina and Pearl looking at her in shock and, with visible effort, straightened up and bowed quickly.

“I’m sorry, mesdames.” Agent 8 returned to standing, her face locked again in an unreadable stare. “The light in the Promised Land is a little too much for me. I’ll be fine.” She flashed a fake-looking smile as the members of Off The Hook glanced worriedly at each other.

“8, you don’t need to apologize.” Marina put a hand on the pink-tentacled Octoling’s shoulder. “The light hurt me when I first got here too, alright? I should’ve thought about how dark the Deepsea Metro was before we came here – it would’ve been safer for you if we had just had one of the copters bring us back, we could’ve paid for the extra time.”

“Or, my dad could’ve paid for it,” Pearl snarked, trying to lighten the mood. She waved a hand when Agent 8 looked at her in confusion. “Eh, inside joke. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s fine.” The Octoling girl shielded her eyes from the bright lights of Inkopolis and peered into Pearl and Marina’s house. “This place isn’t too bright. And it’s so spacious! Are you sure you can afford to have me here?”

Pearl gave Marina a meaningful look. It was worrying that the amnesiac Octoling thought Pearl and Marina’s house was spacious – they had specifically chosen it to be a small place to get away from the hustle and bustle of a pair of hot-button Inkopolis celebrities – and even more so that she assumed there was a dearth of living space on the surface.

Marina leaned in to whisper to Pearl. “She can’t remember it yet, but in Octo Valley, all the buildings for low-ranking Octarians are really cramped to save on power and space. When I got transferred into R&D, I remember being really excited at the size of the sleeping quarters, and the room was barely bigger than the coat closet in this place.”

“Yeah, but all the closets here are huge. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to store all my baggage.” Pearl smirked at her own joke, turning to Marina as the two finally followed Agent 8 into the house. “Seriously, though, what are we going to do with her? She doesn’t know anything about Inkopolis, she doesn’t remember anything from Octo Valley, she doesn’t have anywhere to live, and legally speaking, she doesn’t exist!”

“Well, at least I can do something about the housing issue.” Marina pulled up the chat program on her phone and began typing rapidly. “Everyone thinks she’s collaborating with us in that album – you know, the one we haven’t been making – so our agent says, as long as she’s actually in the songs, he can get her a flat in Tidepool Heights at least for a few months. After that, she’s on her own, so she’ll need a steady job.” The idol started chewing on her phone case. “I guess I just traded in one problem for another, slightly more complicated one. Huh.”

“We’ll have to think about that later.” Pearl pointed ahead, glad to be able to get Marina’s mind off the current issue. “Looks like 8’s pepped up.”

Sure enough, the Octoling girl had just emerged from the duo’s laundry room, a genuine smile – the first one they had seen since they acted as mission control in the Metro – plastered on her face. “Your house has so much cool surface world stuff in it! Look!” She held aloft a pair of fuzzy green Squidmas socks, embroidered with snowflakes and elfin jellyfish.

Despite herself, Marina giggled. “Oh yeah, Sweaters vs. Socks. That was a good one!” She nudged the shorter Inkling next to her. “Which  _ I _ won, by the way.”

“Oh, hush, you.” Pearl good-naturedly replied. “Hey, kid – we should all be getting to bed soon, but what’s your name, anyway?”

“Uh…” The Octoling pondered the question for a second, scratching her tentacles in thought. “I don’t remember. How about…” She snapped her fingers. “Seph? It just sounds right.”

Pearl shrugged. “Works for me. Right now, I just want something to call you besides ‘Agent 8’. It seems like it would get awkward.”

“And don’t be afraid to change it if it doesn’t work for you,” Marina added hurriedly. “You don’t have to know everything about yourself yet, okay?”

“Jeez, Marina, already droppin’ truth bombs on the kid?” Pearl gave Marina a cheeky grin. “Anyway, I’m beat. Time to turn in?”

“Sounds good. Wait a sec, though.” Marina gasped. “Oh, carp! The house only has the one bedroom. Seph, would you be alright sleeping on the floor? I’d ask you to take the couch, but –”

She nodded. “I’m not high-rank enough for padding. It’s alright. I was actually planning to stay up reading – what sort of books do you two have?”

Marina cringed. She had been  _ going _ to say that she wanted to keep an eye on the other Octoling in case she had a panic dream in the middle of the night, especially considering everything she’d just been through without any sleep, but if that was how she thought about everything… “Our bookshelves are in the living room, right through there. The bedroom’s here, if you need us –” she pointed to the door in question – “and feel free to come in when you get tired.”

Seph nodded and rushed off to the living room. Pearl followed Marina into their bedroom with a sigh, and the two were snoring before they hit their pillows.

~~~ くコ:彡 ~~~

The next morning, Marina and Pearl woke up, as usual, at the same time. They got dressed and, Marina leaning on Pearl, walked to the kitchen, where Pearl started some toaster pastry as Marina poured some juice and peppered her girlfriend with kisses –

“Good morning!” came a chirpy voice from the connected living room, and Marina nearly fell over herself turning around. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Seph, a hefty copy of  _ History of Inkopolis _ in her hands, sitting perfectly postured on the couch. “I’ve been reading all night! All these books are really,” she cleared her throat, “far-out.”

Pearl raised an eyebrow, waving around a pastry to cool it down. “Seriously? ‘Far-out’?”

The Octoling held up a small leatherbound book, which the pop stars recognized as an old Octonese/Inklish dictionary. “I already know conversational Inklish, so I skipped to ‘slang and idioms’. I understand a lot more of what that phony phone was spouting when its circuits were on the fritz.”

The tiny Inkling doubled over in laughter. “Kid, that book’s from, like, 40 years ago. I got it as a gag gift for Marina last Squidmas. You’d have better luck with slang asking Captain Cuttlefish. Although, actually, those raps of his weren’t half bad...” As she considered this, the toaster pastry she was waving snapped in half. “Whoops.”

Marina bemusedly watched her girlfriend try to eat hot bread off the ground. “I’ll just scramble you some eggs, Pearlie. Seph needs some breakfast too, anyway.”

In a few minutes, the three of them were enjoying a nice meal of scrambled gull eggs and toast – or, more accurately, Pearl and Marina were. Seph had wolfed down her toast completely dry and was picking at her eggs with a look of dissatisfaction.

“What’s wrong?” Marina pulled the Octoling’s plate closer and peered at the eggs. “Are they too hot?”

The Agent shook her head. “This is too flavorful. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Too – huh?” Marina sighed. “Of course. You don’t remember ever tasting anything; no wonder. You gotta eat something, Seph.”

She shrugged, slipping off her chair and heading toward the exit. “I’ll just pick something up in Inkopolis Square.”

“Now hold the heck up, kid!” Pearl reached over and snagged the tank on Seph’s back. “If you couldn’t handle the city yesterday in the afternoon, we’re not lettin’ ya go out there in the middle of the morning without sunglasses.”

“And you should wear a hat, too,” added Marina. “Trust me, most people are probably going to just assume you’re an Inkling with a weird hairstyle, but someone might flip out if they figure out you’re an Octoling.”

Before long, the duo had decked Seph out in a pair of 18K Aviators and a Jellyvader cap, as well as a loose-fitting dress shirt and skirt to hide the Octoling’s leather apparel.

“Jeez, you look like an idol trying to hide from the press,” groaned Pearl. “And trust us, we’ve been in that sitch before.”

“I think she looks nice!” Marina shrugged, trying to be diplomatic. “Oh! One more thing – you should get that ink tank off, you’re actually not allowed to wear them in the Plaza for security reasons.”

“Understood.” The Octoling stood at attention, but as Marina knelt to unbuckle the straps that held the tank in place and pull its tubes from Agent 8’s back, she noticed something she hadn’t seen in the previous day’s chaos: a smattering of painful-looking burns across Seph’s exposed skin.

“What is it?” Noticing Marina’s worried expression, Seph brought a hand to her face and ran it across the scarring.

“It’s just inkburn – it happens when you have enemy ink on your skin for a long time without washing it off or getting splatted.” Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Marina stood up quickly. “It should clear up the next time you respawn, but… doesn’t it hurt?”

Seph thought about the burn for a second. “I’ve gotten used to it,” she honestly replied, and bounded out the door before Marina or Pearl could say anything.

The pop duo shared a worried glance. What were they going to do with her?


	3. Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seph makes a friend and an enemy. Agent 3 talks business.

_ Mistakes of youth teach us a lot. _

_ We skate too fast and have a blast _

_ And learn quickly not to get caught. _

_ H01/D03 Slap Bracelet Station _

 

Seph sat at a table near the edge of Inkopolis Plaza, sipping from a metal can. She had been turned away from every shop in her quest to get the blandest drink she could find due to her lack of any money other than Metro credits and the general unwillingness of the plaza’s vendors to admit their food sucked, but a jellyfish had taken pity and bought her a Mola-Cola from a vending machine. She loved it – it tasted like sugar and nothing else. She took a look around; the nearest person to her was a dark purple-skinned sea urchin with white spines and a black bandanna covering their mouth.

“Check out the rich fish,” she heard a voice sneer. Looking up, Seph saw a pale Inkling boy with dark blue tentacles approaching her. Seph was confused – she was totally broke, but…

Of course. She cringed, reaching up to her shades. In Pearl and Marina’s fancy Promised Land pop-star clothes, no wonder people would assume she was rich. She sank back in her chair as the Inkling took a seat across from her.

“You’re new to Inkopolis, huh?” She nodded. “Thought so. You don’t have any cash, your style’s totally stale, and you ain’t talkin’ to anybody.” He leaned back, a smirk spreading across his face. “Need someone to give you a hand?”

Seph put pieces together in her head. If this guy thought she was rich  _ and _ knew she didn’t have money on her, he must’ve been watching her for a while. Maybe that was normal for Inklings, but this speech seemed practiced. Something didn’t sit right with her about this guy, but Seph decided to force her suspicions down; this was the Promised Land after all, and if he was offering to help her, he couldn’t be all bad, right?

“’Course, I can’t just be givin’ my vital financial aid to any punk in spendy shades.” He slammed his hand down on Seph’s, startling her into reflexively pulling back. “Here’s my deal. We fight. No weapons, no Ink Tanks, just Inkling-v-Inkling with your friend here-” he motioned to the urchin, who did not look happy at being dragged into this- “judging. You win, you get everything in my wallet.”

Seph thought about what she had seen in the surface world so far. Fighting did seem to be the Promised Land’s preferred method of conflict resolution, given what she had read in Marina and Pearl’s library, although this kind of fight did seem pretty unorthodox. “What happens if I lose, then? I’m broke.”

The Inkling stroked his chin in contemplation -  _ mock _ contemplation, Seph thought, but she was sure she was reading too much into it. “How about… you do anything I want for 10 minutes?”

“Sure, whatever,” she said with a shrug. As she glanced over, she realized that may have been the wrong choice, seeing a look of worry on the sea urchin’s face. “Or, wait…”

“Too late.” The Inkling grabbed Seph’s shirt from across the table and brusquely dragged her into a side alley, the urchin in hot pursuit. Seph quickly pulled her CQ-80 from her pocket and quickly fired off a message to Pearl and Marina -  _ Got in fight, dont worry _ . Soon, the three found themselves in a dingy, graffiti-laden side street. Seph pulled her shades off and slid them into her pocket, the alley’s dim light treating her eyes much better than the plaza’s bright screens. The Inkling boy standing across from her showed a sharp grin, with a look in his eyes Seph couldn’t place. “Yo, urchin, count us off.”

The urchin dramatically threw off a sweeping black cloak, revealing a sword sheathed on their hip, and began a muffled countdown. “On go. Three, two, one, GO!”

The Inkling lunged at Seph, leading with a strong left hook, but Agent 8 was more than ready; she grabbed the punch in midair and twisted, nearly knocking her assailant down from the pain alone. She followed up by lunging around to grab the brim of his hat, yanking it up to catch his loose navy-blue tentacle, prompting a cry of pain as he stumbled backwards. Before he could react, Seph elbowed him square in the face, knocking him onto his back as blue ink streamed from his nose.

“What the hell?” The Inkling scooted backwards, ink running down his face. “This chick’s psycho! I’m way out.” His escape was cut off by the feeling of cold metal pressed against his head, as he looked up to see the urchin’s sword drawn and held to his tentacles.

“Deal’s a deal, Sturge.” The urchin’s one eye looked him over coolly. “Wallet.”

The Inkling – Sturge – growled angrily as he dug his Splatfest I.D. out and chucked the rest of his wallet at Seph, turning tail at top speed as soon as the sword was gone. She heard a low chuckle from the urchin as they picked up their cloak. “Jeez. First girl he gets that to work on, and it’s you. Serves the bastard right.” They turned to the Octoling, a smug grin peeking over their bandanna. “Name’s Aristotle. You’re an Octoling, aren’t you?”

She hesitated before nodding. “My name’s Seph. What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’, just wondering. Trust me, I get enough trouble for bein’ an urchin, I’m not gonna rag on someone who just got here.” They beckoned Seph, who followed them back into the plaza as she donned her sunglasses. “Word of advice from one Denizen of the Deep to another. If you’re new here, you’re gonna want to sign up for Turf Wars. That’s the number one way to get street cred in this town. And Sturge’s cash isn’t gonna last forever, so you’ll wanna get some kind of part-time job.”

Seph nodded. “Thank you, Aristotle. Is there any way I can find you if I need more help?”

They raised their eyebrow. “Guess I’ll be right here most of the time, although I got no clue why you’d need help from a nobody street urchin like me.” Aristotle flopped down onto a bench. “One more thing, though.” They glared at Seph, a dead serious look in their eye. “Sturge holds grudges. He’s not gonna mess with me because he thinks we’re friends, but you better watch your back, Octoling.”

~~~ くコ:彡 ~~~

Octavio was still asleep in the snowglobe in the morning. Agent 3 nervously tiptoed around him on her way into the base, casting glances at the captured Octarian.

“He won’t bite.” The sudden voice made 3 jump, nearly dropping her Hero Shot. Agent 4 was facing away from the entrance and inspecting something on a desk; he looked over his shoulder at the younger agent. “Actually, you think you could toss one of those Rubik’s Cubes in the globe? He’s been pretty mellow recently.”

Agent 3 picked one of the multicolored puzzles up, turning it over in her hands. It reminded her of some of the things she had seen floating in the Deepsea Metro, before that phone thing…

She shook her head, clearing the memories away. “Didn’t he escape yesterday?” She opened a small hatch on the snowglobe and dropped the cube in anyway, though; she trusted 4’s judgement over her own, even though she had been part of the New Squidbeak Splatoon for longer. The way the older Inkling carried himself… he seemed more put-together than anyone else in the Splatoon. Probably why Marie recruited him, she figured.

“I mean relatively.” Agent 4 shrugged noncommittally. “Anyway, that was totally Callie’s fault. Octavio didn’t even know we still had the Hypno-Shades.”

Of course, being put-together compared to the Squid Sisters and Cap’n Cuttlefish wasn’t exactly hard. Agent 3 sighed. Where were they, anyway? “Are the other agents out on missions?”

4 didn’t respond at first. Agent 3 looked over, to what she could now see was a partially-disassembled Splattershot. Agent 4 was just staring at it, with one hand on the separated half of the gun’s plastic shell and a screwdriver held loosely in the other. “Four? Are you alright?”

Agent 4 started, nearly dropping the screwdriver, and scowled at 3. “Joubin.”

“Huh?”

“It’s my  _ name. _ ” Agent 4 - Joubin - rolled his eyes. “Enough of this ‘Agent’ crap. We’re gonna work together, we better at least know each other’s names.” He vaguely waved at Agent 3.

It took a second for her to realize he was asking for her name -  _ probably too long _ , she thought - but she managed to stammer it out. “Uh - Halie.” Did Joubin think she was lying? She felt like she was - the name still felt wrong in her mouth -

But it was good enough for him, apparently. He nodded and looked back at his work. “The Squid Sisters are doing a show and the Cap’n always sleeps in. Hey, uh, Halie, you know anything about weapon assembly? I for-real don’t know how to put this back together.”

The name… did feel a little better coming from someone else. She moved up to the desk and motioned for Joubin to move aside. “Look, you better have some tape, you ripped the pull limiter right in half - it looks like you just pried the shell apart, right, you have to undo the latches starting from the back…”


	4. Hydrophone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl and Marina talk to their agent.

_ "I rule," you said, "It's in my blood. _

_ Don't step to me — ESPECIALLY _

_ If you can't hang with my best bud." _

_ F01/E12 Drop The Bass Station _

 

Pearl and Marina had been expecting Seph to come back to the house within a couple of hours. They got worried when she messaged them to say she got in a fight. They got even more worried when she messaged them to say she won. A few minutes of frantic texting later, they were pulling up on Marina’s motorcycle, ignoring the Inklings taking quick phone pics of the idols. Seph was flipping through a wad of bills, an empty Grizzco wallet sitting on the table in front of her.

Pearl blinked hard. “Uh… where’d you get the wallet, kid?”

“I told you.” Seph, apparently satisfied, refilled the wallet and shoved it into a pocket on her skirt. “Won the fight.”

“...Okay, we’ll talk about that later.” Marina took off her motorcycle helmet (Pearl hadn’t been wearing one) and shook out her tentacles. “Seph, you gotta tell us how long you’re gonna be out before you run off. We thought you were just going to get some breakfast.” 

“Look, I know you went through a lot in the Metro, but that’s no excuse to throw safety outta the window. You can’t let people mess you with that- letting yourself get dragged into an alley, seriously, I’m glad you’re good in a fight but even with no memories you should know that’s a bad idea…”

Marina chuckled quietly. Pearl may be the least responsible Inkling in the city, but that wouldn’t stop her from putting Seph on the receiving end of one of her classic Responsibility Talks. Marina had experienced some of them herself when she first came to the surface - no matter that Pearl had been responsible for most of the trouble they got into anyway.

Mercifully, Seph was freed from Pearl’s terrible advice when a shout from across the plaza grabbed the group’s attention. “Ay! Who’s the ankle biter, Pearl, didn’t know you sheilas were adopting!”

“I’m not  _ that _ young,” muttered Seph as Pearl sputtered next to her. The woman approaching them was a sea snail, by the looks of her; extremely tall even next to Marina, her dark brown shell balanced on top of her head like an elaborate hairdo. Seph got a vibe that she outranked Pearl and Marina in some way and adjusted her behavior accordingly.

The snail slapped Pearl on the back so hard she almost fell over. “Ah, I’m just messin’. You’re the kid from the news, right?” She extended her hand for a shake. “Syril Turbin. I’m these two’s agent. Eh, yours too now, I guess.”

“About that…” Seph thought back to her arrival at the New Squidbeak Splatoon’s base. Yep, Marina had said that their agent had contacted them about the new album they were apparently making. “I don’t actually know if I play any instruments. Will that be a problem?”

“Ya don’t  _ know _ if-” Syril sighed. “Y’know what, this is shop talk. Why don’t youse follow me back to my office, see if we can get pen ta paper for this stuff?”

It wasn’t a question.

~~~ くコ:彡 ~~~

Watching Syril go into business mode always freaked Pearl out. The sea snail dropped her usual demeanor completely, moving with a sort of practiced efficiency that put the Inkling in mind of steel knives and hooks. It didn’t help that Business Mode was how she had first met Syril face-to-face; she had gotten in contact once before to set up their appointment, back when she was first trying to get into the professional music scene with Marina. The vibe she got when the two stepped into the office was so unlike the slang-laden conversation she had over the phone with a fellow punk rock fan, she was almost convinced she had the wrong room. She had stammered through the whole meeting, and Syril had confided in Pearl later that she only let her back for a second meeting because she didn’t want to humiliate her in front of her girlfriend.

They hadn’t told Syril they were dating. They hadn’t told anyone yet, in fact. Hell,  _ they _ hadn’t even been sure at the time. That was how Pearl learned the other thing about Syril that freaked her out: she could read anyone like a book.

A Super Sea Snail shell - empty - sat on one side of Syril’s wide desk, holding paperclips. That gave Pearl the creeps, too; it seemed morbid. She knew that was sorta dumb - she ate food with normal, non-sapient squid in it sometimes, too - but it still seemed a bit… off. Of course, Pearl knew that was the point. Syril’s whole office was carefully calculated to be as offputting as possible. The desk was just a few inches off from the center of the room, there was always just one chair too few to seat everyone in the room, the subtle pattern on the wallpaper was just a  _ little _ tilted out of alignment, the hum of the AC popped in and out of hearing basically at random…

Seph, of course, noticed none of this. She hadn’t even thought about sitting in a chair, standing ramrod straight in the center of the room (so,  _ not _ in the center of the desk, meaning Syril had to twist her chair slightly to make eye contact), and she literally didn’t seem to be paying any attention to anything other than the conversation. Pearl had to admit, even though Syril was a great agent and an even better friend, it was nice to see her squirm for once.

“Alright, final verdict.” Syril’s decisive voice snapped Pearl back to the present-  _ god _ , but these chairs were uncomfortable. Pearl could swear they had less padding than last week. “Seph can sign on for the album as a featured artist, which means we’re actually allowed to pay her, but only if she can play an instrument  _ or _ if she can replace one of you on vocals for all the songs. Otherwise, your contract prevents contributors from getting a penny. For  _ some reason _ .” Pearl cringed; that was their  _ first _ agent’s fault. Pearl and Marina had both signed the contract he drafted up without looking over it very hard, because they were young and stupid; it was now a huge pain in the ass for Syril, because the recursive clauses and impenetrable legalese he had written in to keep his own paycheck big also meant that it was next to impossible for Off The Hook to actually do collaborations with other bands.

Syril took off her slim reading glasses and hung them from her blazer pocket, the visual sign that she was slipping into casual mode. “Aright, now get out of my office, you. I wasn’t prepped to do work today, I gotta go get a frothy. Pearl, you’re drinkin’ age, right? Wanna come with?”

Pearl blinked. Syril didn’t normally invite her to personal business. In fact, she wasn’t even sure what Syril’s personal life was like; the two barely interacted outside of work. “Uh, no thanks. Marina and I gotta get this kid home and see what instruments she can play.”

Syril shrugged, already on her way out the door. “Eh, s’fine. Call me up if you ever wanna get hammered, ‘kay, Pearlie?”

Pearl jumped at the use of the pet name, the one only Marina ever used. For some reason, a twisting feeling flared up in her gut for a second, but she pushed it out of her mind - Marina hadn’t noticed, and it wasn’t like Pearl was thinking of - Syril had known the two for years, there’s no way she would ever -

And then Seph said she should ride in the sidecar and Pearl would have to hold on to Marina, and she lost her train of thought.

~~~ くコ:彡 ~~~

“I like this one.” Seph looked over the keyboard in front of her, plugged into Pearl’s laptop. “A synth, right?”

Pearl nodded, then immediately cringed back when Seph cranked the volume all the way up and dragged her hands across the keys. “Jeez, kid, the hell was that?”

“Just learning the notes,” Seph said absently as if that was the normal way to learn keyboard. She shut her eyes lightly and danced her hands across the keys. Instead of the chaos she had made with the drums, electric guitar, marimba, turntables, and upright bass, Pearl heard… a perfect rendition of the Calamari Inkantation.

“Damn,” she breathed. “I think we found your instrument.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I really need to write more of this fic. I'm basically writing this as it's being uploaded, currently about halfway through the next chapter - feedback and things you'd like to see are greatly appreciated!


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